


We Are Stars

by glennjaminhow



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: 1993, Codependency, First Love, I Love You, M/M, Original Poetry - Freeform, Soft Boys, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 06:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16571309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glennjaminhow/pseuds/glennjaminhow
Summary: Filled Tumblr Prompt: MacDennis + The first time they said 'I love you' and meant it.





	We Are Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry that this is terrible. Also, the poem at the beginning was written by me. Yeah, I'm trying my hand at poetry now. Just letting you know in case it sucks booty because it very well may.

_Jagged, craggy mountains brood,_  
_Looming heavily over them,_  
_The heaven-touching summit drenched in brilliant, explosive light._  
_He feels terrifyingly small;_  
_It isn’t a trance worth breaking._  
_He sits on a ledge overlooking the view,_  
_Silence soaking into his bones,_  
_Sipping slowly from the fountain of life,_  
_Transfixed in this illusion._  
_Being here –_  
_Right here –_  
_Is cosmic,_  
_Out of this universe._

**December 1993**

“Where in the shit is Dennis?” Mac exclaims at Dee, horrifying back brace squeaking and her arms full of textbooks he desperately wants to smack from her hands. “We’re supposed to flood the gym today during the pep rally!”

“Yeah!” Charlie seconds. “I wanna go ice skating.”

Mac sighs, scrubbing a hand down his cheek. “Dude, for the millionth time, you cannot ice skate in there. We’re gonna have to split, like, immediately.”

“Then why did I bring an inflatable duck, bro?”

On cue, a tattered yellow duck in sunglasses from their childhood emerges; Mac’s eyes widen. “What? I poked that thing with my pocketknife when we were 13; how do you not remember this? Also, what does the duck have to do with skating?”

Charlie shrugs wildly. “I dunno, dude! I was just thinkin’ on my feet. This screamed passerbilities!”

“Do you mean ‘possibilities,’ Charlie?” Dee asks.

“Shut up, bird!” Mac shouts. “See, this is why we need Dennis! He’s the smartest person I know. Where is he?”

Dee doesn’t look interested, and Mac wants to throttle her or punt her through the wall or some shit. Dennis is right; she’s annoying as piss. Mac is so glad she doesn’t live with him because Mac knows he’d throw her out the window the instant she irritated him. Really, it’s a wonder why Dennis hasn’t done it himself; Dee’s his sister, after all. Maybe their next scheme should be against Dee? Whatever. “We’re twins, douche nugget. If Dennis is the smartest person you know, then I’m just as smart as he is. Probably even smarter because I’m eight minutes older.”

“Ew. Gross, Dee,” Charlie says, backing Mac up; Mac beams proudly. “Look, I gotta piss, and I kinda was gonna mix in my pee with the flood water, so we gotta get this show on the road.”

“Is your piss still blue, dude?” Mac asks.

Charlie ducks his head and stares at the Doritos dusted floor briefly. “No…”

“Liar. You can piss in it. I bet that’ll freak Adriano out. Dee, where’s Dennis? We gotta do this now before we get caught,” Mac urges.

Dee slams her locker closed. “First off, why the fuck would blue pee scared Adriano?” she questions. “Secondly, Dennis isn’t here. And, finally, leave me alone.”

“What do you mean he isn’t here? He knows how important today is!” Mac yells. “We can’t do this without Dennis!”

Dee pushes her way past Mac and Charlie, shoving her way into the auditorium. Oh, that bitch. That Goddamn bitch.

Charlie taps Mac on the shoulder. “I gotta go, Mac…” he whimpers, hands covering his crotch and doing an epic pee pants dance.

“Plan’s off,” Mac says, waving as if this doesn’t matter because, now, it really doesn’t. “Go pee, dude.”

Charlie runs off at full speed – little guy is fast as shit. Mac immediately leaves the school. Teachers aren’t paying attention. Even if they were, Mac would ditch anyway. He graduates in six months, if he passes that is, and no one expects him to go anywhere in life. Dennis is more important than a stupid prank and pep rally for some shitty ass team. Plus, it’s the last day before Christmas break, and Mac’s gotta get his Jesus on, so this just gives him extra time.

Also, he’s kinda worried. Dennis is always at school. The dude has nearly perfect attendance and straight A’s and is a genius after all. So, Mac walks the two miles in the snow to Dennis’ house, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket and admiring the vibrant Christmas lights on fancy, clean, unclogged gutters. He tries to ignore the thumping of his heart, the sweat beading on his forehead even though it’s a below freezing day in Philly, the crunching of his footsteps taking him closer to Dennis’ place, the uncertainty building like a skyscraper in his bones.

Is this too much?

No. They’re buds. Mac practically lives in the Reynolds’ giant mansion.

But this is during school hours. Is it weird to just show up?

Mac takes in a deep breath and rings the doorbell anyway.

“What do you want?” Rosalita, one of the maids, answers.

Mac rubs the back of his neck with an ungloved hand. “Um, hi. Is Dennis here?”

Rosalita opens the door all the way and gestures lazily for him to come in. Mac kicks off his icy boots, nauseous and lightheaded. Quit freaking out. This isn’t weird. It isn’t. It’s just a friend worrying about another friend, a friend who never misses school unless it’s absolutely necessary. This is totally normal. Mac would do the same thing for Charlie.

Except he and Charlie used to skip all the time to get drunk or high, and Mac catches all sorts of things from Charlie because – ringworm, colds, pink eye, the flu – the dude is gross. Ew. What if Dennis has pink eye? Wait. Why is he thinking about this? Why can’t he focus?

“He’s in his room,” Rosalita offers, voice flat. “You gonna go up or just stand there like a dumbass?”

“Don’t rush me,” Mac bites back, but he makes his way upstairs regardless.

He knocks softly on the closed door, but there’s no answer. He’s about to jump out of his skin, so he carefully opens it, poking his head inside.

“Den?”

The room is dark, blackout curtains shielding the blinding snow, and so warm Mac takes off his jacket to drape it across the dresser immediately. The only light comes from the glow and the dark stars on Dennis’ ceiling. A maid named Josefina put them there when he was little and scared of the dark, and Dennis must either like them or doesn’t care enough to take them down.

“Mac?” he hears. Dennis’ voice is hoarse, but it is still so absolutely Dennis; Mac blushes.

“Aw, you sick, dude?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Dennis quips. But there’s no anger or irritation or resistance behind the remark. Instead, Dennis sounds calm and stuffy.

Mac huffs, collapsing on his stomach at the foot of the bed, sprawling out and laying his head on folded arms. “We were supposed to flood the gym…” Mac says softly, sadly. He feels a little guilty for letting those words escape his lips, especially since Dennis is shivering almost violently, teeth chattering under the glow of fake stars.

“I know. We’ll do something even better after break.”

“Like what?” Mac asks. Shit, he can’t help himself. He was really looking forward to today. He wanted to watch Adriano and his goons freak out. He wanted to watch fat ass Mrs. McGee get swept away in a tidal wave of water. He wanted to celebrate with the rest of the gang for a job well done, getting hammered in Dennis’ basement and kicking off Christmas break in style.

“Dunno,” Dennis says. “Hey, listen, could you do me a favor?”

Mac nods against his own skin. “Sure, Den.”

“Can you get a few blankets from my closet? I’m freezing.”

He frowns. “I’m not sure you should just keep bundling yourself, bro. Y’know, you need to, like, sweat the fever out.”

Or at least that’s what he’s heard Mrs. Kelly say when Charlie’s sick.

Dennis whines, but it’s way more softer than usual. “Please, Mac. Please.”

“I dunno, man. Lemme take your temperature first, and see where we’re at.”

He gets up, and Dennis doesn’t protest. Doesn’t throw a bottle of NyQuil at his head for being overprotective. Doesn’t do anything other than lay in bed, cocooned and dazed. Mac finds a thermometer in the bathroom medicine cabinet and some Tylenol PM. He makes Dennis put the thermometer under his armpit and swallow two white pills.

Dennis winces at the loud beeps and swears under his breath because, apparently, Mac’s hands are ice cold.

“102,” Mac announces. “No more blankets for you, bud.”

“What? No!” Dennis sneezes twice, followed by a round of wet coughing. “Don’t be a dick, Mac.”

Mac waves him off. “I’m not a dick. You’re a dick,” he says quietly. “Alright, you can have one more blanket, but I get to pick it.”

“Great. Guess I’m getting an itchy beach towel then.”

He ignores Dennis to shuffle through the closet. He pulls out a Sherpa-lined quilt and tosses it to Dennis. “You’re lucky I’m so nice,” Mac says, settling down beside Dennis.

Dennis curls the blanket around his shoulders, rolling on to his side and pressing his hot cheek against Mac’s neck. Without even thinking, Mac wraps his arms around Dennis and rubs up and down warm skin in order to bring some relief. He smiles to himself as his friend relaxes beneath his fingertips, touch soothing them both.

“Love you, Mac…” Dennis whispers, right on the edge of sleep.

It doesn’t make the words any less special.

“I love you too, Den. Get some rest.”

Dennis nods. He moves to where his face is hidden by Mac’s shirt. “I really do love you…” Dennis repeats.

Mac inhales so sharply he swears he breaks his left lung. But his worries are instantly cured, and he doesn’t think too deeply into this; otherwise, he’ll really freak out. He just focuses on the shaky breaths and silent kisses. Dennis is here, and Mac is here, and they’re here together, comforting each other beneath freshly fallen snow and plastic glow in the dark stars.

“I love you, Dennis,” Mac whispers back. “More than you’ll ever know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to follow me or send in requests on Tumblr: @glennjaminhow.


End file.
